It rattled against the cage
by Shadenight123
Summary: It hungers and thirst for blood. Deformed and twisted in a world of darkness. Thousands of years have passed since Konoha. New York now has a new problem. Antediluvian Naruto Uzumaki thought boredom was his only enemy...he forgot to take into account God and his viciousness. When dead people start appearing, people he knew, then something stirs. It's a fight you want god? I'm here.
1. Walking with the Vampire

It rattled against the cage. It was hungry. It was hungry for the blood and the life of those below. Perched atop the six floors high building made of bricks and concrete and second hand wood it growled. I was hungry too. We were both hungry, yet the distinct difference that made me and it so different was the line. The subtle line of eating and of killing separated me from it. I wanted to eat. It wanted to feast. I wanted to survive. It wanted to destroy. It rattled once more and I obliged it.

I never grew around the growing of my claws. I never understood the feeling of the blood that I loaned from others within my body. I only knew that it worked. It was after all no different than chakra. Only chakra came from within us. This was different. It had to be taken by force, by cunningness, by being the top of the food chain.

Antediluvian they call me. I am the top of the food chain. I care not for politics or the Invictus. To me those names are meaningless. I know of Hokage, of my dreams shattered upon that night. It rattles once more. To think, to remember, it stirs the beast. I seek not its companionship tonight. I carefully let my body slide alongside the building, to land in a dark and grimy alley, the ones that petulant mothers warn their children against. They have a reason after all.

That reason is me. People like me. Monsters like me. Beings like me.

I once believed in things like friends, comrades. I believed in love. I was foolish once. The emotions died within me, crumbling like a castle of sand against the wind that is time. How long since I last felt the wind on my skin? Too much time: I feel nothing but the blood. I am nothing but my blood. I am dust that walks and moves. I heard from Frankie about it.

He has these stupid theories about what we are. What we are going to become. I don't actually care, but he's the only one who doesn't run away. Maybe he's too stupid, or maybe it's because he likes to boast around how he befriended an Antediluvian.

It does not matter. His antiques amuse me, and that is all I need to kill my boredom.

Sometimes, my eyes look at him and see a dark haired teen in its place. Those are the times I must stay my hand from killing him. He's dead. Just like the pink haired woman I loved. Just like my children. Just like my wife. Just like everyone else I cherished and loved and swore to protect to my dying breath.

Some died of old age. Others died of war. Some died of sickness, others disappeared to never return. They are not among the kindred for I would know. They are not hiding among the Nosferatu, for they would know and ask favors in exchange. They are not among the lupines, the mages or the ghosts. I am alone.

I walk the night alone. The dark alley's stench doesn't even reach my nostrils. It is not the stench I feel, but the memory of a stench of one of the many dark alleys I walked when I was young. Thousands of years and I can't help but remember.

What else could I do?

I remember everything clearly, like it was yesterday. Once I was a knucklehead wasn't I? Once I couldn't even do a Bunshin properly. Now that I am deprived of chakra I can't do it nevertheless.

I can grow claws however, claws made to rend and tear at my own kin. I am a Gangrel, some say. I am a Brujah, other says. I am a diablerist, many add. Did I kill my sire, my creator? That I did. I enjoyed every moment of his trashing, of his screaming blasphemies about unworthy children. I enjoyed it as I feasted on his soul.

_It_ was happy that day. I feel it purr at the remembrance. It is not a cat or a mere animal. It is the beast.

Once I thought the Kyuubi in my gut would be a problem. It was nothing compared to the beast. I could talk to him, I befriended him. It cannot be befriended. It is but a figment of a mad mind that feast on blood and torment.

It rattles for dominance. It screams for murder, it thirsts for blood.

It is my jailer and my jailed. It's my prisoner to keep.

Some whisper of Golconda, as the solution to the problem. I sought it out for years and years, but I never found it. Golconda is a myth. Yet some seek it. Some look out for it. Some desire it and fight to find it. They come and they go like madmen tied together by the string of a wicked fate. They will not find it. It does not exist.

I met another Antediluvian once, but it was not from my country. Its claws were as black as its soul, yet it kept the appearance of being kind. It asked for me to walk with her, and I obliged.

I was bored, and she was bored too.

Was that my chance at Golconda? I don't know. I know we departed years later. Nothing done, nothing forgotten and nothing to forget: we walked different ways after all. Evil doesn't always need to do something in order to work.

Some say it's strange I still roam around the night. It's dangerous, Frankie says, for one like me to walk around. It makes all but the strongest or the Gangrels cower and run. My beast cannot be defeated. It is strong, and my will is too. Frankie sends me a message. I know the buzzing in my pocket means that.

I know that the prostitute I'm sinking my fangs in is clean. It's in Frankie's area: it has to be kept clean. I let her go moments later, and she doesn't even know I was there. She's one of blood sacks walking on the street. No matter how many quickies they might do in a night, or if they might or not get an orgasm from one of their clients, they'll come back to that street eventually.

The kiss of one of us, of kindred, is something far more pleasurable.

The blood is even more. I feel it once more. It is placated. It grumbles and growls slightly, but it does not attack. Another beast is near, and I finally decide to look at the message.

_Behind you I stand. Kindly avoid killing me?_

I snort as I turn around. My eyes must have been still glowing from that frenzy that comes from drinking, because Frankie recoils slightly.

It is but a moment, and then he holds his ground. I am always surprised by his willpower. Maybe he is just that lucky, or maybe he's a Ventrue hidden among the ranks of the Gangrel. It's not like I care about it.

"Frankie."

"Naruto. How are you?" He asks in hesitant Japanese. Obviously he gets all the accents wrong and in the wrong place. Japanese isn't his language and Japanese isn't my language to begin with. It just goes near enough to it to resemble it.

Still I should be thankful for the effort, shouldn't I?

"Problems?" I ask. Something, anything to kill the boredom and stop my brain from working and remembering is welcomed. I know that some might think I'm chained, but it's not true. It isn't blood that binds me: it's the boredom.

"None. An Antediluvian in town pretty much kills all actions." He replies. I know, I know. He doesn't want to be frank about it. He's Frankie, but being Frank is something different.

"It's just been fifty-two years." I reply calmly, "Can't overstay my welcome if nobody welcomed me to begin with."

"Yeah. New York is a bit like that." A frothing purulence and gangrene of the world where kindred fight and die every night. He doesn't add that, but I know enough of his rants to know it's hidden somewhere deep within his words.

Frankie is one of the bitter kindred. He was turned and ate his family first. I never had to experience that the first time around, but I wonder how I would have turned out in that case. I went through that scenario for years and years. I thought of all the things I did a lot. I had nothing better to do to waste my time on.

At first I had wanted to stay away from civilization. I had wanted to eat on animals and nothing more. Then _it_ decided it was long time I stopped hiding. It thirsted for more potent blood. It wanted the blood of humans. It wanted the blood of Kindreds once too, but I stopped it. I slept and slept and slept. Tormented in my sleep by the dreams of those I killed and ate. I woke up to a New York, when the last time I was around it was but wooden buildings and shambling civil fighters.

I walked into Frankie in the Fifties: the era of the Italian Mobsters, of the Mafia. Forget having a cellphone, a gun was everything one needed to be respected. I know of how New York changed, I helped with that.

Frankie talked to me after all, he doesn't probably remember me. He was such a cute kid, pity he turned out to be like this. I did not sire him however. I sired no-one and I tied by blood no-one.

"You afraid I'm going to kick the can soon?" I queried, tugging a small smile on my lips. I am not amused. I feel nothing. It is just the habit that makes me smile. Same for Frankie. He acts concerned, but is he? No. He's even more psychotic than me, I know it, he knows it, and we both avoid mentioning the two blood dolls he holds and pets and dress up like they were his deceased daughters.

We avoid mentioning a lot of things in this dark world.

Once I had yelled I'd be Hokage. Once I had painted the monument. Now it's not even a plain that piece of rock. It's a lake. Konoha? There are no longer trees around it. It's a desert. The ground itself cracked and stirred and everything was engulfed.

I am an Antediluvian because I came from before the final hours, the hours where god grew angry at the world and sought to destroy it. God's a bitch and I know it.

I don't know if it was actually god or some sort of twisted geographical rearranging. I don't even know if it actually was planned or it just happened. Science explains a lot of thing, and it might eventually explain us too.

If we let them start knowing us of course.

I was a wildcard in youth and so I am even thousands of years later. That's the reason they want me out of the city. Me: choosing a side would mean the end of the war for New York. Never mind Anarchs, Invictus, those freaky and twisted religious beings of both twisted Catholic and Pagan religions. Never mind. The side I'd choose would win the war.

Something about having the bigger bomb to unleash: I'm a weapon, and I find it amusing. I was one in the past too. I stopped wars by simply being there, speaking. I always thought they stopped fighting because my words were cheesy and peachy. If only I had had a good dose of years behind me, I'd have known they were simply afraid of me.

The best peace is the one achieved through fear and terror and blood. It rattles against my cage. Something makes it stir. It's the thought of blood I suppose. It ate already and yet it's still hungry. I had to stop it, or it would have killed the woman.

I know Frankie is trying to discern what to say. He's always like that. Paranoid doesn't even cut it. Even though I could snap his neck in a second, in a blink, he's more paranoid of offending me with words than with anything else. I always think he's a Ventrue in disguise: I just need for him to slip once to get my proof.

"Of course not: nobody can kill you." He replies. He tries to make the comment be a statement, and not an ass licking. I know him enough to understand though: he can't offend me and I don't want to be offended. Last time I lost my nerves London burned to the ground.

I think it's because I told him that that he keeps being polite. He never relaxes around me, the sour look of his stays where it is always. I think he thinks I'm a ticking bomb ready to explode. Point being he's right of course.

I am a bomb. I would have taken my life centuries if not millennia ago otherwise. There is no longer a Kyuubi in me, there is no longer chakra running through my veins, but that is not the problem. My beast is there. Once it was Kurama. Now it's only it. No amount of friendship can bring it back. I tried. I tried and Rome burned. I tried again and there are still earthquakes in Japan.

The Kyuubi was more than a mere chakra battery. The Kyuubi was the focal point of all the malice in the world. Now, two world wars later, I know that I can't die. If I do, then it would be unleashed. All of it, all the hatred of the jailed in the Nazi camps, all the blasphemous anger of religious believers that fight one another, all the blood and cries for help of the trenches, the deported, the mass slaughters of the Indians. It's all there. All bottled up in me. Every single drop of hatred is within my soul.

And it rattles to be freed. It growls and threatens and screams for the murder of everyone else. There is no innocent in its eyes. There is no-one untainted. It must destroy all.

So I cannot die. I cannot kill myself and walk in the sun. How long since its rays touched me? Frankie of course doesn't know this. He's worried I might snap and eat him, that he is, but he just has no idea what I truly can do if I die.

It's better that way. Some people might have tried to capture me then. Like this I'm just a friendly Antediluvian, who's just passing by. They probably sent Frankie to ask me how long I'm going to stay around, and obviously Frankie knows I know. He doesn't try to be subtle about it, at least not too much.

He knows better, and so do I.

"Tell the Prince I'll be leaving when I decide between Spain and Venezuela." Those names are anything but familiar to me. Hi no Kuni was familiar to me. Konohagakure no Sato. Uzushiogakure, Iwagakure, Sunagakure. The land of Stone, the land of Water, the land of the Moon. Spain and Venezuela are foreign names to me.

They mean nothing but the message is clear.

I will leave when I want to, but Frankie has done enough and the Prince won't be taking the blame on him. After all he doesn't even have the guts to come here in person.

What is he scared of? That I'd eat him? Of course he is.

The only reason he doesn't declare a blood hunt is that he knows it's futile. The Anarchs tried to recruit me once. It took ten years for another Anarch to have the guts to enter New York. The Prince knows this and thus stills his hand. He knows I might just as well destroy everything if they keep it coming. I'm saving the world and yet they don't even know about it.

I'm not going to tell them that I'm a hero though. There are no heroes here: only the monsters that inhabit the darkness.

"Will do." He nods back at me, and with the business done he smiles. "Want to go disco?"

"Isn't it 'clubbing' now?" I reply. Not that I'd care about correcting him, I'm just doing conversation. It's difficult to keep track of the modern changes. People go too fast. They move and move and move, they fight and eat and sleep and they take too little time doings things. I'm a hypocrite and I know it. I did things even faster than them, always smiling, always cheerful. I was the fastest. Turns out being fast means nothing when the other side can defeat sound.

"Yeah…The Bloody Cocktail would like your continued patronage." He replies with a light grin. It's his bar after all.

I don't know why, but I accept. We walk alongside the road until we reach his car. The first time I saw a car I thought they'd just be a trend. Then instead of walking like a dead horse, the cars reached speeds that no human could manage. The trend became a key point in the life of people.

Frankie knows how to drive. He was the driver of the Giovanni for a long while, and if you have to dodge bullets, police cars and enemy gangs, then you either know how to drive or you learn fast. The traffic doesn't matter to him. The lights can stay red for all that he cares, nobody can stop him. That's the reason I usually take the bus or the metro. I can't stand letting him drive. It's not sane.

Nothing ever is, is it?

The bar is a seedy little thing in the corner of an otherwise anonymous street. It's true worth isn't the appearance, but what's hidden beneath it. It's invitation only, and you better not try and boss your way through. The area is Giovanni's.

Trench-coats are still a hit around here, as are Tommy Guns and respect. Fun fact is that there's no criminality in here. It's all organized, and thus the streets are clean of drug dealers, muggers or worse. A bigger evil usually swallows a smaller one. Mobsters work best than policemen: it's a matter of fact. For once, they don't forget. Ever. For seconds, they fight to kill, not to capture.

He walks in with but a nod, and the security guard lets us through. Typical bull, ex-pugilist turned security guard. Mobsters even help the economy by giving out work. Truly, nothing would work without organized crime. How can you fight wars against enemies you can't kill? You call the Mafia. I always thought crime was evil, but when I met Frankie I just realized evil doesn't exist.

There's not even good around. The only things that exist are life and survival. Everything else is always in relation to that. I sit down at the bar, as the soft music speaks volumes of what the place really is.

It's a sort of trove for nostalgic of the fifties. Nobody here is younger than thirty. Some have even grey hair and one barely walks without a cane. Yet they're at peace. The piano swings once more and the tuba gently hums a tune. An elderly lady walks up to us, a bright smile on her face.

She's old and wrinkly and yet it wants to feast on her nevertheless. I can never forget it's there. It is there. It's there for me to remember always.

"My, Francesco…been so long." I tune out the chatter of the two. I don't care about them. My eyes move through the people, searching for something, someone or anything that defies routine. Something that is not boring, anyone that can bring me a bit of a spark of normality: someone or anything. Something or anyone.

"Sakura." The name makes my head snap to the side. What does that name have to do with everything? I didn't think I'd hear that name again. I didn't even believe I could hear that name again. I'm not in Japan. I'm in New York. That name isn't something they'd pronounce. I wanted a fight against routine, not an earthquake.

"She's such a young darling, but I'm afraid she's getting bullied you know? Works late shift at Moe's and…" Now I'm interested. So I obviously listen in. Frankie isn't the Don, but he's still a wise man. Like he put it, he's the one who solves the small problems of the every day citizen. If it's big, then he sends it over to the Don.

"I'll see what I can do." He replies. Of course to him the thing isn't interesting in the slightest, but he's that sort of guy who'll help as long as he doesn't have to go out of the way. I should ask him direction to Moe's. This is something against routine, and as long as it is against routine I'm all for it.

"I want in." I don't even know when my voice left my throat, but the reaction from Frankie says it all. He hadn't expected it. It takes him a while to remember he doesn't feel shock, or that he doesn't need to feign it with me.

"What?" He asks back. "This isn't going to take much…you sure you don't prefer…clubbing?"

"No. This is good. I'll take this." I reply. I see him think about it for a moment. An Antediluvian solving mere problems like a girl being bullied by coworkers? He's probably thinking about 'overreacting' on an all new definition. It doesn't matter to me though. I've got my fix against boredom.

Moe's bar is near central park: the perfect place for the Gangrel and Brujah hang-out, and also the place where I feel the most at home. Frankie comes with me just to make it subtly clear under whose orders I am. It doesn't matter. It's not like he'll come out with it, but I know the voice around the streets is of me as a lapdog of the Giovanni.

It gave them as much power as headaches, because I'm no-one's lapdog. Once I served Konoha, now the village is dead and there's nothing else. Moe's bar is seedy. Truly another refusal of the Fifties to leave the city that never sleeps. It is probably because Moe's is actually Maurice Ferdinand, Daeva. He's not here of course.

He must have felt me coming from at least two streets before, and ran away. I can still see the puzzlement on the face of one of the waitress. Hazel hair, blue eyes, the name 'Mary' on the chest. The uniform she's wearing is the old one piece yellow thing with a white apron that you can still find in the Grills alongside the old roads.

Never trust one dressed like that. Some of the cousins I know of use it as an excuse to hunt. The dreamy waitress that sucks it up on a passing by truck driver? A lot of truck drivers disappear for a reason, you know.

There is no Sakura here, but the night is young and she seems to be working the late shift. The one that stretches up until morning…by that time we'll have to have left.

"I could have sent a picciotto." Frankie mutters, "Now I'm babysitting." He adds. Babysitting me. He's got the right idea. I don't need much, blood and a place to avoid the sun is all I actually must have. However if you're dirty then the hunted sniffs you out before time, if you're without money you can't catch the bus or the train. Little things like clean clothes are a must if you want to appear civil.

I order coffee. Coffee I will not sip or eat. Frankie does the same and we start one of the random chats. It's a bit like acting. We have all sorts of discussions we can do, ranging from me being a cheater and having a knack with his ex-girlfriend to him being asked to leave the drug circle and 'make life better for everyone'.

Tonight, I'm trying to convince him of the benefits of being a vegetarian, while he keeps on rambling that meat is the one true god in the world.

It's a discussion I'd be pleased to lose, but then the next words about Tofu die in my mouth.

The door jingle open, and a female figure walks in with a light jacket. She's half Japanese and half American. Her features are softer and she has pale skin. Her hair is black but her eyes. I'd remember those eyes everywhere. They're a bright green jade.

She's not alone.

A raven haired boy walks in next. He snorts and sits down on a free table and my gaze…my gaze lands on him too.

Reincarnation doesn't exist.

So why is there Sasuke sitting at a table, while Sakura is going to get changed?

I know the answer.

I always knew the answer.

God is a bitch. A whiny, pathetical, bastard creature of filth and decadence that strives to have a last bloody chuckle in the face of its impending doom at my hands: this is personal. God, be on your guard, I'm coming for you.

Frankie has slipped out in less than a minute. Maybe I gave the impression of being on the point of frenzying. I was close to it. The beast rattled against the cage with laughter and roars of fury, the cup that held my coffee cracked and bubbled like excess heat had twisted it.

You want to play, god?

Fine. Let's dance.

**Author's notes.**

**Xpgamer challenge on KNP, also my try at First Person narrative…it's a oneshot. Consider it like this until I've got the time to hang around it a bit more. **


	2. Moving with the Vampire

It rattled against the cage. It looked through my soul with ravenous eyes. I knew it had eyes. It had sharp teeth and a raspy tongue. I knew it was there, ready, in wait. Seeing them, both of them, made me forget about it for a moment. I recollect myself in time, but the damage is done. The coffee spills on the table forming a small brownish pool. My clothes are not ruined, they're already dry.

I feel someone coming back and I know who it is. Frankie must have fled at the first sign of me frenzying and only now does he walk back in. To avoid suspicion, he drops his wallet in front of me.

"Knew you'd forget something. It's your turn to pay tonight." He mutters as his eyes tell me another story. I know what story it is that he wants to know. At the very least I own him the dinner. Truly, at the very least I own him a story.

If I was the old Naruto, I might have inclined too. If I was that naïve idiot with blond hair that somehow managed to spout nonsense and keep his head attached at the same time, then I would empty my bag immediately.

I am no longer that boy. I am not speaking of this. I'd like to never speak of it again, but I know Frankie won't drop the issue. He'll look into it. If he has to he'll disturb the deceased. I doubt there are any ghosts who might shed an answer for him, and that's the problem.

"Don't want to talk about it." I reply quickly. My gaze is fixated on the raven haired teen. Sasuke is there, sitting at the diner. He's there and he's got a cup of coffee in his hands. He's there and he's wearing a blue jacket and a light white shirt beneath. He even has those frigging black eyes of his that seem to look at you and tell you outright how beneath him you are. Not tonight. Not tomorrow.

If only he had his own Kusanagi, he'd practically be the one ghost from my past that I could not bear to see. There he is, sipping the coffee slowly. He too is hunting for something, or someone: I can feel it, I'm a hunter too. He came in with Sakura. These 'bullies' might have harassed her. He's here to protect her. Just like he didn't do in his past cycle, if reincarnation is true and I doubt that.

Strange to see him as the protector and not the hunter, the _avenger_: why couldn't he be that thousands of years ago? Is it the fact that there's no Naruto copy going around? And what if there is? Our eyes meet for a second, and then he stares at me. He thinks he's superior, but my eyes tell him a different story. In the past, he would have never done what he's doing now: he drops the stare and looks away. I'm not a little kid who fights to become equal to him. I'm stronger than him. I'm on another scale, another level, another reality. He feels it, even though he has no idea why. His self-preservation instincts are pretty good at least.

I belong to a world where strength matters relatively, unless you have so much people beg you to leave them alone. Freedom comes both as a price and a prize in the world. I grin lightly at his antiques. The boy is flustered. He clenches his fists. He eyes Frankie. He's looking to see if he can take us, for whatever reason his brain has come up with. I turn my gaze back to Frankie. Of course he's not speaking any longer. I can see it however.

His brain is working. His mind is opening. He's trying to connect various tidbits of information I might have left slip out, in order to find out why I'm here.

Then he blurts it out as usual.

"She reminds you of someone you knew." There. Whoever said that Gangrels are idiots never met Frankie. He's far more paranoid than a Ventrue. I'm sure he's one. I just need to get him to use Domination on someone else, or Awe or another gift of blood he shouldn't be possessing.

I narrow my eyes and he knows he's right. At the same time he knows I don't want to talk about it. This doesn't stop him however. That's his problem: he doesn't know when to stop.

"The name and the appearance. Was she a relative?"

"I'm not in the mood Frankie." I growl lightly. By then he finally gets it and stops querying. I know it won't last. He'll hunt and hunt again until he gets enough to bring forth his thesis. Damn psycho-Gangrel. I'm halfway convinced he really is a Ventrue, when he merely nods and looks out of the window.

"The War Hawks…Oberloch's slaves." The name sounds alien to me, and my eyes move too to stare. A group of bikers is moving towards the diner. The eyes of Frankie are cold and calculative: that's the business Frankie. He stands up and bristly moves towards the counter and I look at him smiling kindly at Sakura while doing so. He's getting a donut and yet I can't help but feel like he's doing much more. Those things are probably cold and hard as steel considering the late hour, but he doesn't seem to care about the pastry. My eyes see what he's doing: he's taking a light sniff of the air. Damn him; he's getting Sakura's scent to track her better.

The door jingles suddenly, and I look at the men entering the diner. There are two of them who stop midway, both stereotypical punks of downtown with hair the color of rainbow and piercings in places you don't want to think about. They look at me with sudden surprise, then at Frankie. Of course I'm the biggest threat, but Frankie is the most pressing one. I'm alone, he's not. At least, I have no-one to watch my back. Sure I can't get killed unless they try their best, but it means nothing.

They kill Frankie and they know, they just know the Prince won't let it slide. Frankie is a known Kindred of the realm, I am not. I can be killed, if they try really hard, and nobody would say anything. Kill someone who's recognized however and shit storm doesn't even cover half of what can befall you.

Five of them are ignorant fools addicted to the blood. They don't know me and send me glares, before moving on to the empty tables. The other two look at each other, and then they move next to Frankie. They want to know why he's here, and I know now that Frankie moved because he didn't want me to hear. The two are Ghouls. Not only addicted by the blood, but empowered as well: so submissive and zealous that not even the removal of a limb can stop one. Frigging walking zombies is what they really are.

I could pry the conversation with ease, but I don't want to. Frankie did let the argument drop, didn't he? I should trust him.

Who am I kidding? I'm listening in as they talk, my ear are as keen as they can go with Auspex. Frankie stakes his claim on Sakura for a member of his family. Now there's the diplomacy taking part, because yes, Frankie is the good old diplomatic kindred that the Invictus loves to have. One of the two says it's love at first sight or some shit like that. The other backs him up nicely. Frankie slips something in the chest of the lover, and then it's over. The two promise and swear.

When Sakura comes over to take their orders, Sasuke flinches. So that's what the problem was: he was hunting for who was harassing her. I feel some sort of pride, of smugness, in knowing that I could willingly _trash_ Sakura in front of him to make him pay for everything he did. It's just a moment, and the beast already growls in excitement. I could break her bones like a twig, smash her to a bleeding pulp in front of him, tear her chest apart and devour her heart leaving behind but a bloody mess on the floor. He'd be powerless. He'd be like I was when a chidori was shoved in her chest. He'd know pain. He'd feel it. Would he become an avenger? Would he awaken his sharingan even millennia later, when chakra no longer even exists?

I recollect myself inches away from standing up and moving to pounce. The beast is slippery at best and mortal at worst. It will do all it can to free itself, and I know it. Why did I think about harming Sakura? To have revenge on Sasuke, my time's Sasuke. This one is innocent and I care less. Humanity, why have you forsaken me? The beast snorts and growls louder. It was sated of blood and yet it wants more. It wants death and now finally it has something that can make me suffer again. Kurama, I miss you.

Frankie watches like a hawk the scene, just as Sasuke does the same. The 'lover' of the War Hawks is strangely subdued and in a corner. He slips in his order quietly and then Sakura leaves. She is puzzled, just as Sasuke is. Frankie merely stands up, gives the 'I'll be watching' hand gesture to the gang, and then pays. He moves back to our table and grabs his wallet before moving to leave, eying me carefully as he does so, silently querying if I'm going to follow him.

"I'm staying here." I whisper to him. He looks at me with surprise. I know he's faking it. He's faking it so badly it comes out wrong. He merely shrugs, placing his wallet back in his inner pocket and then leaves. He doesn't ask why, he knows it all too well. Fixation on something is the very first sign a Kindred is losing his mind. Paranoia is usually the first to come around, but sometimes it's something worse.

I know he'll be going straight to his Don, and then to the Prince. Depending on the circumstances he might keep it to himself until tomorrow, but I'm sure that in at least a fortnight everyone will know about Sakura and my strange desire on her. Even if it isn't true and I care less about the meat sack that dares to wear her skin I can't help but feel something stir within me at the thought, the mere thought, of her in danger.

It's the desire to protect. How long since the last time? Was it in Mosque, during the Tzar's death when I found myself holding a little girl within my arms? Was it in the trenches of the Alps, fighting off kindred clad in gas masks as I yelled to the others to run? No. Every time I protected myself from harm, and by consequence those that came near me were protected too.

The desire to protect died with the last breath of my last child. A kunai stuck in his lung and me crying over his growing colder body. He was barely eight. I could not be there for his funeral held during the day. I could do nothing but cry on his tomb at night, buried next his mother and older brothers.

I know what I need to do. I need to kill her. I need to kill her and Sasuke. I need to make sure my past stops haunting me, at least for another millennium. I had enough excitement for one night. There is no need for me to have more.

"Sir, would you like a refill?" She asks. The voice is the same. Why does it have to be the same voice? Why can't the voice be different, belonging to someone else? Why does it have to be precisely the same voice that I still recall like yesterday? Why can't it be hoarser, coarser, darker, grimmer, lighter or sharper? Why the _same_?

"Hai." I answer. I wince at the default use of my tongue. At least it doesn't matter in the circumstance. I nod a second later and she interprets my grunt as a yes. The cup is slightly filled when the cracks on the container start letting the brown liquid seep through.

She's quick about it. She swiftly brings the coffee pot back up and then carefully moves the cup away.

"I'm so sorry sir. I'll get you a new cup right away." Her tone's kind enough to be reassuring, but it's not pleading. The backbone is still there, I realize. No. I have to stop it now. She is not Sakura. She might have the same name, face and voice but she's not Sakura. She's not my Sakura and that's not my Sasuke. If he just stopped looking at me like I was a predator…

Who am I kidding? I am a predator and he's doing his job well. Well protector, all I need is a word and she'd be mine by tomorrow. Want to test me? Are your eyes challenging me Sasuke? Is this a challenge, Teme?

No. I refuse to turn back to what I was. I refuse. If this is the price to pay then so be it, I renounce the gain. I'm not going to return to my childish self over two kids. Two kids who are no longer kids of course, but to my eyes? They aren't even neonates: they're like sperm barely attached to a fertilized egg.

She's back with a new cup filled with coffee, and I graciously accept it. I start to look at the steamy content and before long my mind wanders to the past. I hate it when it does that. I hate remembering her, me, what was ours. I hate remembering how I lost everything and to whom.

Cain. You were my father, and now you're dead. Did I make your last wish come true, my _sire_? Are you happy now in the cold embrace of death? I hope you are. I am a son of Cain, an Antediluvian, and I am the one who feasted upon his body. I am the one who defeated him. I am as old as the punishment itself. Yet it does not matter, does it?

There are always new ways to punish someone like me. To punish a sinner for his crimes there isn't just pain and death. I once believed in Kami, before God let the punished one punish me in turn. I turned to many faiths, and in the end I refused them all.

Hypocrites, the lot of them. Power was all they ever sought. I am older than them all. I walked alongside their so called prophets and saw them for the men they were. I could have struck them down with ease had I wished to, and yet I did not. Why didn't I? Because they were but men, whose tales were exaggerated years later, and with enough time and centuries to pass, their tales became legends.

Legends became religions, and religions became the cancer of the world.

I'm talking like a Carthian. Those guys are all about working together to ensure a better world for tomorrow. They're all about _coexistence_. The fools can't see it. You can't keep a wolf and a lamb together in the same room. The wolf gets hungry and eats the lamb.

Kindreds aren't wolves however. We're things far worse than wolves. We're diseases. We're rotting purulence that can't be completely cut, because we don't work our way from the outside. We are hidden: the masquerade keeps us so.

It's funny how Sakura flinches when the War Hawks pay and leave a large tip. It's like she can't believe her luck and she flashes a bright smile towards Sasuke, of all people. Once that smile was there for me, wasn't it? Why isn't her hair pink? Can't she dye it? I know she doesn't know her hair is supposed to be pink, but at least I hope she'll remove the wig soon.

It's not a wig and I know it. Why does my mind keep on rambling? It rattles against the cage. Humanity might not be enough to hold it at bay after all. Is my will crumbling? I just met the two, I didn't even speak to them except for small pointless things. It can't be.

I'm seeing a problem where there is not one. I just need to drink the cold bloody coffee, and then wait some more. Soon, Sakura is once again over. I gestured for her after all.

"A sandwich, beef and salad." It's two in the night, and that's what I'm ordering now. She doesn't even mind or complain. She merely nods and fills my cup of coffee once more. Feels just like home. Home of millennia ago…a home I no longer have.

Kindred are by nature social creature, and by nature homicidal backstabbers. Our nature calls towards other both to cherish them and to annihilate them. How quaint. Quaint, I know the meaning of the word quaint. I know it because I'm older than you Sasuke, so stop staring at me like I'm some sort of boogeyman.

You think you can intimidate me, duck hair? Teme? Who's the Dobe now huh? See how Sakura's bringing me the sandwich over? And I thank her for having brought me the sandwich and I eat the damn sandwich.

And you stare at me, and I realize that you actually want to fight for dominance. There's no dominance here Sasuke-_kun_. There's me and what I want. You don't like? A pity, a real sad pity that you can't do shit about it because I'm stronger than you, I'm smarter than you, I am everything you are not and it's far better you understand your spot now, because I swear if you don't frigging remove your eyes from…

I blink, catching my breath as my eyes drift towards the empty plate and the clock. It's four in the morning now. I head towards the counter to pay and I know that he's still there, looking at me like I'm some sort of diseased person. He's analyzing me. I pay and then I leave. The sun has yet to rise, but I can't risk it.

Sure, I could try my luck against the rays of the sun, but is it worth it? No, it isn't. Central park is just beyond the street, and that makes me lucky. When my feet touch the soft ground I turn around and stare, stare through the panel glass of the diner at the two amiably talking.

My eyes narrow down and once more Auspex is my blessing. The discipline of blood, the power to see, to hear, to touch, to smell, to have everything a thousand of times better. I read Sakura's lips and Sasuke's and I know that I can't let them go.

They're mine. They're my friends. They're my precious people.

"Thank you." Sakura's whispering to Sasuke. "They did nothing tonight."

"It wasn't me." He mutters back. So now we're not doing the grunt Uchiha? Where's your damn Uchiha grunt Sasuke? You left it at home with the murdered family? "You saw the two before? The one in the suit is a bad one Sakura."

Leave it to Frankie to make a lasting impression. I can feel the air around me start to warm up. I want to listen to them, but I need to merge, if I don't the sun will burn me. If I burn then the world burns, yet I want to listen to them. I want to be a part of their world. I want to be their friend once more.

I went from wanting to kill them to wanting to befriend them. How difficult could it be? They're what, twenty? Twenty-one? I'm two thousand years minimum, I'm pretty much able to do it, right?

"You think?" She's asking him with a worried tone. Don't be sad Sakura, I'll take care of the Oberlochs for you if you want me to. I'll kill them all, I'll butcher them and I'll eradicate their servants and burn down their houses, but please don't be worried. Your face is beautiful when you aren't frowning.

"I saw the symbol on the man's wrist, Sakura. He's a Giovanni. They have the port and downtown in their hands. It's the Mafia. He was ogling you too, like the other guy." I start to feel the warmth become uncomfortable. I _have_ to go, but I don't want to. I've got days and years in front of me to look at them, but I can't bear to separate myself.

Not now. Not today. Please don't rise up in the air sun.

I'm merged with the ground a second later, my face contorted into a scream that cannot escape the protective earth I clad myself in. My beast stops rattling against the cage, because the sun's rays are above us. An enemy it cannot defeat. It can wait for me, but the sun? The sun will always scare her to submission.

In the dreamless sleep of death that is the torpor, I await with dread the next night. Will she be there too? What if she has another shift? Will Sasuke be there? Will Frankie be there?

Frankie. He was ogling Sakura. That's a stupid thought and I know it. We're kindred, we don't ogle things. We might feel distant echoes of emotions long dead, but we don't ogle things. Frankie is twisted in his own way, but he prefers blonds. Blue eyed blonds, college students, sorority sisters. Girl-scouts…he holds a deranged and twisted sense of family. One that I do not care for: I've got Sakura now, and Sasuke too.

I just need to get them back: I just need to find a way to bring them back to me. To make them my comrades once more I'll need help. Maybe Frankie can help me, if I decide I'm not going to kill him for ogling Sakura. I'm not really sure about it though. He did smile at her. What if he wants a new daughter? He's not getting Sakura.

I'll have to tell her to keep her hair pink though: she doesn't need to dye it black for me. Or was it a wig?

The sun's still there, above my head. I wait and wait and wait in the darkness that is my soul. What if they're not the only ones? What if…there's a Kakashi-sensei too? A Sandaime? What if there's a Yondaime and a Kushina and a Tsunade? What if…what if my sons are here too? I need to get my family back. Stolen from me it was, but now…now I might have a chance at getting it back.

I frown and shiver slightly, to remove the dirt from my body, as I emerge from the ground the next night.

My cellphone's ringing and I know it has to be Frankie. He's the only one who has my number after all. I flip it on as I look at the diner, and then at my clothes. I know what to do, and as I head off towards my apartment I listen to the man's rambling on the phone.

"Naruto. Is everything alright?" His voice is hesitant, and I can feel that he's being extremely cautious in speaking.

"Tell me all you know on Sakura." I reply calmly, "And I won't hunt you down." He sighs with relief. I know him all too well and he knows me too. He knew it would be a gamble to go around flaunting that I'm interested in Sakura, but at the same time he knows I'm in need of actually knowing this Sakura.

If I had killed her last night, this wouldn't be necessary.

"My darling Elisabetta got me her files. She was really lucky you know? They're both going to the same university. Columbia is such a hassle to get settled in, you know? What I do for my children…"

"Sakura." I deadpan. Is she studying to become a medic? That's the Sakura I know. I wonder how much of her is in the new one.

"Oh yes. She's pursuing a law degree."

No. That's wrong. She should be doing medicine, or a nurse one. She shouldn't be doing law. There is no need for lawyers. There is a need for medics. Medic-nins are highly prized. Why is she doing something as boring as law?

"You still there?" Frankie queries. He's been rattling off on her average and attendance. He's always throughout with his searches, and I know that when something bugs him it won't leave until he's satisfied.

"Yes. I'm still here." I reply mechanically as I take the bus. People stare at me for a moment but say nothing in the end. Sure I'm a little bit dirty, but my clothes are of good facture: I might have fallen down.

"Well anyway, your best luck would be waiting until winter gets cold and dark. When the sun's away at four pm, you might catch her around university. You could try the gullible fool approach you know?" There's a bit of a whisper coming from the phone, as a female girl is giggling naughtily about it being 'so cliché it worked'.

I refrain from shivering, because I don't feel shivers. Frankie might look like a young twenty-four years old man, but he's over fifty. That's when I just know who he makes me think of: Jiraiya. A Jiraiya who is actually a successful pervert…no, one that is far worse than the old ero-sennin: a debased individual.

I don't have a base to begin with, so maybe that's why we drift together easily. I know I could wait for winter, but I don't want to. I want to get to know her faster. I'm a Kindred, that doesn't mean I need to spend time on it!

"Where does she live?" I ask: my voice is raspy as I flick the keys of my apartment open. The rest is lost in the following explosion. White phosphorous erupts from the door. Wasn't that illegal? Soon it is followed by more and more grenades that fling themselves with precise and expert motion. I'm no longer there by the time the first explosion went off, but the building is now a heaping pile of fire.

"Where does she live?" I ask once more, quietly. Frankie gulps down heavily and I know he knows he's in deep trouble.

He's the one who provided the apartment after all. 'As safe as safe can be'.

"She boards at my aunt's place."

"The old lady from last night?"

"Yes." His reply is a whisper, a hurried one too. He's giving out orders to his 'daughters' and they happily oblige. I don't know what he's making them do, but I don't even care. I want an address and yet he isn't giving me it. Frankie, don't make me come and get you.

"The address."

"Listen Naruto. I could give it to you, but I can't." He states. "If you want her, you have to pass by the Don. Please understand: leverage on an Antediluvian is something hordes of kindred would die for. When they asked…I had to deliver."

"You're no longer in New York are you?" I sigh.

"Genoa." He replies. "Private Jet companies works wonders. Do what you want Naruto…but please, leave me out of this alright?"

"I do kind of owe you…fine Frankie. You're off the hook." For now. I'm going to personally come and kill you, if _my_ Sakura gets hurt because of you. I'm still going to come and find you afterwards. Maybe if I'll be in a good mood I'll just _tear_ you apart from two limbs of your choice, maybe three.

I have to walk towards the Giovanni's warehouse at the docks, yet why do I feel followed half-way through? I know the reason actually. I know God enjoys this. I wanted the first meeting to be something special, something strange or at least something normal.

I didn't expect Sasuke to outright cut my road with his motorbike, descend and then drag me into the alley nearby.

He pins me to the wall and I smirk. Is this his grin? Am I doing it correctly, Sasuke? The smirk of superiority you held so dear is now mine. How does it feel?

"Where. Is. She!?" He roars at me. How funny. He thinks me and Frankie got her. Maybe she was taken during the day. Of course she was taken during the day. I spent two hours watching her, I ate one of her sandwich: of course they'd be working harder than ever. I'm a damn frigging bomb, and everyone wants a piece of me.

How lucky I am. I finally need to regurgitate last night's dinner. The mess of blood and chewed food find its way out of my throat and straight into Sasuke's face. His hands can't stop my muscles from doing their jobs, he can't stop my nature from doing its own.

Sasuke is covered in blood as he eyes me with shock. Maybe he's thinking he wounded me unintentionally, maybe he's thinking he made a mistake. Maybe he's having second thoughts…

I'll have none of that.

Shocked as he is, with the strength that I have, it takes me but a head-butting and he's on the ground, holding his head.

"Sasuke-_kun_…have _you_ been a bad boy recently?"

**Author's notes**

**I'm kind of having a blast writing in 1****st**** person. Which is the reason my next chapter of 'Twisted reality' is going to come later, because I'm rewriting the chapter that should have been published in 1****st****. …I'm just…loving the style.**

**Oh, and this fic? Doing wonders on my writing about mad characters.**

**Yeah, this is Naruto's PoV. He's a Vampire The Requiem Antediluvian. The claws are a perk of Protheism high level. Cain is obviously the ancestor of vampires 'kindred' as they are called in Requiem.**


	3. Escaping with the Vampire

It rattled against the cage. I looked at the raven haired boy, laying on the cold concrete ground of the dirty alleyway and smiled to myself. He was positively scared out of his wits. Was it the blood? I only knew that it wanted a piece of him now. The beast growled and grumbled at the sight of the hunted shivering. It was such a nice feeling: fear.

"H…How…How do you know my name!?" The boy's whine made me smile deep inside. This fear, this wonderful feeling, was something I never managed to get from him millennia ago. Yet now here I was, scaring the wits out of Sasuke. The damn prideful Uchiha was finally nothing more than a filthy maggot at my feet, holding barely back his desire to cry for pity and mercy. Isn't it right Sasuke? You want me to spare you don't you? Why don't you beg me to!?

"I know a lot of things, Sasuke-kun." I smile sweetly, but he moves back. Is my smile that gentle that you have to recoil, Sasuke? You should call me Dobe, Teme. Maybe you should just so that I can finally put you in your place.

"Where's Sakura!?" He exclaims. Oh, did you get your courage back, Sasuke? Why are you putting your hand in your jacket? A knife? It's nothing but a simple butterfly knife, Sasuke-kun: you can't harm me with that. I'm not even going to feel it, but if it makes you more at ease then please, use it!

"Sakura-chan you say? I don't know!" I reply, cheesy smile on my face as my arms move behind my head. My right leg moves forwards and backwards on the concrete, this is just so nostalgic. You just need to cross your arms, Sasuke. Stand with your back alongside the alleyway's wall and look at me with a gruff stare. Come on Sasuke, it's not that difficult. I've had millennia of time to rehearse our meeting once more. You just need to do the same.

Wait, maybe you want a river and an actual red bridge? I don't know if New York has one, but if you really insist…I shake my head out of the gutter, as I realize he's looking at me with disbelief.

"You were there last night with that Giovanni! Now she's gone, doesn't answer her phone and isn't even at work! You fucker better tell me where the hell you brought her!" It rattles. Me, a fucker? Are you insulting me, Sasuke? Is this a challenge for supremacy, duck-butt, butt-hair, emo-prick, Uke boy, sasu-gay? Are you challenging me, _me!? _I'm the upper dog, the alpha wolf like Kiba loved to say. I'm better than you and you must bow to me or die. Do you get it? Do you understand me now?

My hands are already circling his neck and constricting him, by the time I gain my senses back. It is a cunny son of a bitch. It took the moment and acted. I reel him in, but the damage is done already. Sasuke's knife is sticking from my sides, having pierced my beautiful shirt and jacket. Yet guess what: I'm not bleeding. Dead men don't bleed after all. This isn't a chidori to the chest. This isn't a kunai. This isn't even an explosive tag. It's a frigging knife.

A knife made of metal, designed to kill men and women and animals and living beings. I am nothing of the sort. I am something else, something higher…and you must learn, Sasuke-kun, not to make me angry.

My muscles move before I give them the order, and his back hits the wall of the alleyway with enough strength to make me hear his chest pressure his lungs, the air wheezing out is such a wonderful tune! It brings delight to my chest. No. Not to my chest, to its chest. It is happy, it purrs and wants more: I don't.

My hands let him go, and I look at him with disdain as I remove the knife.

"Tut-Tut Sasuke-kun, I'm going to go and save Sakura-chan. You know, that's what friends and teammates _do_! But no, you have to go and play the sour puss." I shake my head. Why does he never understand? "So you coming with me or not?"

I move again and this time, I hear him ranting for air. Maybe I might have struck him a bit too hard. His neck is probably going to bruise eventually. Maybe one of his ribs is cracked? Maybe. I can hope on it, and hope is such a fickle thing that it isn't even funny how it doesn't work when you need it to work. I keep my leisured pace alongside the sidewalk, looking at the windows of the nearby shops. I can see Sasuke behind me: he follows me warily a few steps back. Is he limping?

I didn't break his legs. I just pushed him around a bit. Stop looking at me like you're scared of me, Sasuke. I'm not a scary person. I'm the Dobe, you know? The one you think is worthless…but I'm not. Now you follow me meekly, when once you ran away because I was too powerful for you. I was a threat to your supremacy, wasn't I? Now I'm stronger than you. I've always been…you were just blinded by your arrogance to see it, to see me, to see what I really was, what I could have become. Why Sasuke? Why couldn't you trust me?

Maybe I was a hot head. Maybe I was worthless. Maybe I was nothing more than a nuisance in your eyes…but stop looking at me with downcast eyes! Does Sakura mean so much to you that you'd follow me unwillingly? Come on Sasuke…call me Dobe.

My body stops on its own. In front of me the metallic gate of the Giovanni's warehouse for the Import and Export of fish is wide open. They're expecting me, of course. Sasuke is nervous now. Maybe he's planning on sitting this one out. Scaredy-cat, you're not the Sasuke I know of, right?

"What are you scared of, scaredy-cat?" I mock him. It brings back memories, doesn't it? The snake slithering with its green scales, the tree tops basking in the warmth of the sunlight…the blood seeping down my battered body, the first show, the first proof…that I was stronger than you, Sasuke.

"Sakura's in there?" He asks, trying to regain his calm. It's too late for that Sasuke. I know you're scared. You're weak and I'm not… but worry not! I'll save Sakura-chan for you!

"Hn." Did my Uchiha grunt come out right, Sasuke? "Course not." I add. "I'd give it to the Giovanni to play fair, but I'm sure they don't have her here." I move, and the next moment we are met with the presence of five armed thugs, with trench-coats and katanas hanging loosely in their hands, the tip of their coats flapping because of the wind. This seems so much like one of those dirty cliché movies that it's not even funny. They don't have guns. They know that guns are worthless.

"Mister Naruto." The head of the fives speak, "In the name of the Don Gianfranco Giovanni I humbly welcome you to our meager establishment." He's the head of the small group, or so it seems.

"I don't cut the ass-licking," I reply growling, "You have something of mine, I want it." I could probably kill four and keep the fifth alive long enough to get the information out of them, but I know them well and if they think even an inch like Frankie, then it's not going to be easy at all.

"Miss Fields is currently held as a guest in some safe and secure place, Mister Naruto." The man replies. Damn, he even has a pair of sunglasses. How much more film can this become? All that is needed now is just a shoot-out, possibly with cops coming over with their sirens blazing. I just want Sakura. Give me Sakura and I might not kill you all. Wait a moment. Miss Fields? Fields? Is Sakura's surname Fields?

"I'll find her, you know." I reply. "If I have to destroy half a city block to find her, then I'll do it."

"Mister Naruto…you do not wish harm to befall Miss Fields, do you?" the threat hangs in the air for a second, before the air start to turn charring hot. Sasuke behind me starts to choke, gasping as he moves away to get air. The five in front of me aren't that lucky.

My hands are already in their clawed forms, as they move through the chest of the first man. I feel his heart stop beating in a second, and as my hand is removed, my fangs erupt and start to drink from the man's neck. I suck him dry: his blood feels so warm and good as it slides down my throat. It reaches the beast, and the beast yells in happiness and demands more…tonight, I'm willing to oblige it a bit more. The katanas move in the air and I feel like the day of years ago… when the samurais rounded up on me.

A menace to the order, they yelled. A problem to the system, something that wasn't meant to be. The hunters of old didn't know us. They didn't fear us. They didn't think we were big shots. They came in waves, they ordered our deaths. They thought they could control us. But I am not normal. I was never normal. Chakra? Who needs chakra when you have blood? The blood boils and disappears, the magic funnels and moves through my pores, and the strength of a thousand men is now mine.

My fist backhands one of the mortals, and he flies and flies backwards until with a sickening crunch he falls against a nearby building. This is not normal. This is not normality. The others are unfazed, and charge at me, thinking they can wound me. I indulge them. Their blades pierce my flesh, but no pain, none at all do I feel. I flex my muscles, and the blades crack and break. I laugh. I laugh at their face as my claws swipe one's head off neatly. They're pretty sharp aren't they? Blood is everywhere, splattered on the ground. The remaining retreat, or try to.

I'm not letting my toys leave. I'm not done. My laughter echoes in the night air, as I pierce the back of one of the two remaining, while the last one is held by the ankle. I pull with strength and fling him in the air like he's nothing more than a doll, and then I smash him on the ground. His head splatters like a melon, and yet I don't care.

This is what I can do. This is what I am. I am the beast of the night, Dracula was never this ferocious, but I am not a Vampire…I'm a Kindred. I'm a being of darkness and treachery. I'm an Antediluvian: my powers are second to none. I look at the one that is still alive barely. My hand did pierce his back, but it appears he can still rant and gasp for air.

"Where. Is. Sakura?" I ask with a little smile.

"I…I…Don't…" Then he screams, as my fangs settle deep within his neck. He didn't know. That was a pity. I ate him nevertheless. The blood now fills my belly so much that it stops rattling. For now it is sated. It takes a moment and it growls again. I always forget…the moment the blood stops sliding down my throat it hungers again.

My cellphone rings once more. Damn you Frankie, stop calling me. I don't want to answer you: I don't want to tell you that I need your help because you won't give it to me.

"Naruto." The voice is Frankie alright. He takes a deep breath, before whispering, "New York needs to burn, so that the ground may grow fertile once more. If you destroy the Giovanni, the Falcone will move in and they are Anarchs. The prince will send the Invictus archons, but the Circle of the Cronus will try and claim the area of Central Park from the Oberlochs with the Prince busy elsewhere. If that happens, the Oberlochs will try and move against the Prince. They've been piling up forces to do that for years…New York is a gunpowder, has been for half a century, since you walked in…tensions are going to explode. So…Sakura's at her apartment, held there by my aunt. She's a kindred with Domination…and has probably blood tied everyone to her who lives there. Kill her."

I take a deep breath. I don't need to listen to him. He might be lying. He's always been a liar. It still hurts he had to rattle to the prince and then leave the city. Furthermore, I don't know who I have to kill. He's saying I have to kill her, but who? Sakura or his aunt? I understand his words don't come without weight. He's doing me a favor, but at the same time he's doing himself a favor. That's how it works. That's how it will always work.

I don't know what to do: I know that Sakura is so close and I can't let her go. He murmurs the address of the house, and then he closes the communication. I know where to go, but is it a trap? Is this the real path to save Sakura?

I'm afraid. What if Sakura never existed to begin with? I just saw her one night, maybe she's not real.

"What the fuck are you!?" The scream comes from behind me, and I turn. Oh right. Sasuke is there. He's looking at me with shock and fear…you're looking at me like you looked at Orochimaru, right? You fear me Sasuke…you do well in that: I have to be feared.

"A friend…" I reply quietly, moving closer. "One who knows where Sakura-chan is, Sasuke-kun…so follow me or leave. None of my business." I want you to follow me Sasuke. Why can't you see I'm your only way to Sakura? But if you want to leave her, then go. It's not like I'm going to keep you around. I made no promise to bring you back this time. Did I? No I didn't.

I start to walk again. I'll get there before the night is over. I have to. He follows. He's hesitant but he follows me. Maybe he's starting to think that the blades simply didn't hit me: I'm not bleeding, one should bleed after being hit by Katanas in the chest right? One should be dead after that.

"We could take my bike." He suggests and I stop. My eyes turn to him, and I look at him. For a real second, I look at him. He's wearing a leather jacket, a Metallica shirt, a pair of jeans. He's wearing snickers. His neck has started to turn a light purple from the bruises I inflicted on him. He's looking at me with fear, and I smile. He's becoming useful, finally.

There is a moment, in one's life, where the desire to snap comes to everyone. It's a thing that ties deep within one's own soul, since it's the same for humans and vampires and kindreds. Even the gods snap every now and then for some sort of reason. Think the fickleness of Aphrodite or of Zeus. They did overreact more times than not. Aphrodite was a Daeva after all, and Zeus was a frigging mage. How they convinced the populations to worship them as gods is something I didn't care to find out. I snapped too, a lot.

In Pompei, I destroyed a city and was forced to make a volcano erupt to cover my tracks. Killed a lot of people I shouldn't have, but at least I kept it low. This time, I wasn't on the verge of snapping. I looked at Sasuke and smiled.

"Let's move then." I had nearly tried to kill him before, I was still debating whether to kill him or not, and then…then now we're working together. This is the Teme alright: I can't hate him and I can't love him. I don't know where to place him.

Probably in the 'you piss me off' category.

His bike is old, cranky, second rate. Once I rode on a recently built Harley Davidson together with a pack of Brujah. I shoved half of them in the ground with a nice friendly kick to the head when they tried to steal my bike. It was still stolen the next day, but I did get it back in the end.

"Drive." I mutter: all that I need is to simply hold my legs to the sides of the bike. There's not even a real need for me to hold on to Sasuke: I'm strong enough. I think I'm going to need my hands too, if the alarms going off around us are of any indications.

One might think that Kindreds, for being long thinking manipulative persons, take a long time to respond to threats. One should do better by drinking bleach and antifreeze: Kindreds have something called contingencies thought through. I've been here for at least fifty years…the contingencies will be unleashed faster than a bullet can leave its gun.

"Don't stop!" I yell at Sasuke, the sirens growing closer. He twists through the traffic like he was born in it. Cars honk at us, but we don't stop. The flaring of the police lights is met with the start of the gunshots. "Keep to the main streets!" I bark out loud as Sasuke attempts to get through an alley. In the dark, the predators lurk. In the dark, things can unfold faster. As long as we keep to the public, to the main street, sure, civilian _might_ die…but the big guns can't be brought out.

I didn't think the Prince would stoop as low as to ignore the Masquerade for this one. I'm just rescuing one tiny woman from the grasp of a Mafia family. There's nothing behind this. Is control over me that important? Is it really necessary to send the sheriff, the executioner and the archons to settle me? I survived Danzo's ploys. I survived Akatsuki. I survived the Fifth shinobi war. I survived the hunts, the crusades, revolutions and wars. I'm just being selfish once: let me be selfish, please.

Let me cling to what remains of my selfishness. Give her to me and I'll leave. I'll take Sasuke too, because he's a bastard, but he's mine. I can't speak as Sasuke screams. The axe wielding sheriff swings his instrument of doom like he means it, and my only choice is grabbing Sasuke and jumping up, high in the sky.

He's still yelling when we land on a nearby roof. His screaming doesn't die for a while, as I run with him between my arms. I fought tooth and nail for you once, and in the end you chose to die after taking all that was precious to me away from me. I'm not letting you go Sasuke. _You_. _Are_. _Mine_.

When I land, when my feet finally touch the ground in front of a seemingly normal brick building I look at Sasuke.

"This is Sakura's house?" He nods numbly, probably still trying to catch his bearings at being hoisted and brought around half of New York at a speed he had never thought humanly possible before. I don't care much, except saving Sakura. Once, as a Shinobi, I was rash. I had the Kyuubi stuck in my gut that would heal me if I got too wounded. Once I was stupid. Then I became smarter, I started to plan and take my time into entering situations. Then I became strong. Once I was strong enough it didn't matter to me: I could pass through traps and enemies with ease…

So I walked in smashing the door.

It was a reinforced steel door, hidden behind a seemingly normal façade of being made of wood. Did I care? Not much, I admit. To my delight, the house wasn't empty. Another Kindred was looking at me with fright in her eyes. The desire to escape was all over her trembling body…yet there she stood. Had she thought about gluing herself to the ground to withstand me? Her eyes flickered in annoyance and my beast _roared_. Trying to catch me off-guard? Domination won't work.

It rattles. It thirsts. I comply. My fangs shine in the hallway as I near her. They deeply carve themselves in the woman's neck as I avidly drink her blood until nothing remains. The blood is a powerful toxin: her soul looks at me with expectant eyes and I stare at her with anger. You took my Sakura. I'm taking your chance at redemption. She screams. Her soul screams in a mute horror show as I devour her. You're mine now.

I need Sakura. Where is she? Tell me where she is! The soul flinches back in annoyance: I didn't save her, why should she comply?

Because I can harm her. Because I know her. Because I have known things since the beginning of time, since Cain chose me over someone else.

I was the thirteenth.

I am the call of Armageddon. Did she really think she could hide Sakura from me? Right now the shackles of blood that bind her servants are falling. I see a black blur pass by me: Sasuke, climbing the stairs quickly. I follow behind: for once I'll let the Teme speak. We work well together, isn't that right Uchiha? Why couldn't you see that millennia ago? Do you know how much would have changed?

Maybe I'd still be a vampire...but at least I wouldn't have had to see Konoha burn because of your last, stupid, attempt at war.

That's in the past Sasuke. Don't worry. I'm not going to make you do the same mistake again. _Ever_.

The door opens, and I look at another figure moving to embrace Sasuke. Sakura. There you are.

She's crying without control, sobbing on his shoulder. He's trying his best to comfort her, but I see his worry. He looks at me after a moment and I know why he's worried. What am I to them? A stranger that entered a bar one night, and the next sent them over a world of chaos and shock? The sirens are blaring through the night's silence and I know we can't stay.

"Sakura, we have to go." Sasuke mutters, grabbing her by the hand. It's then that she sees me and recoils, like I struck her. I haven't struck you Sakura. I never hit you, not even once.

"Why is he here!?" She basically screams in the night. "He was…He…"

"He says he's a friend Sakura." Sasuke replies, "And we have to leave. Believe me."

Dattebayo.

Believe me.

I nod curtly, before whispering. "You two better hold on tight."

"Wha…" Sasuke doesn't get to finish the sentence. I'm on them, grabbing them and pulling them on my shoulders as I dash out of the second floor. I hear them scream again and I chuckle to myself. The window shatters upon my passage as I jump outside, sailing in the air. Am I hearing things right?

Is that the noise of a chopper coming at us?

The twirling noises of cingulate tanks reach my ears too, and I feel like those nights in the trenches, when the Panzers of the Nazi pushed through. The Prince's power comes from his connections. His power comes from the ability to call upon in defense of the domain any Kindred that lives within the domain itself.

Just like a Hokage can call any shinobi, so too can the Prince call any Kindred to assist…and some Kindreds have far more than enough power to call for help from very important places.

White phosphorous, once more popping down from the sky like it was mere fireworks going off. Fifty years of planning contingencies in one of the most controversial areas of North America. New York must burn, Frankie? I'm starting to think you can glimpse the future, and I don't like the thought at all. The explosions that reap through the area leave flames that can't be extinguished. The tank's shells pierce through the air with deafening roars sending splinters of concrete down when they hit nearby buildings.

The streets are evacuated, but it isn't over at all.

They're still there. They might not be as fast as me, but they can keep going for longer. The sun will eventually rise. I'm going to need a damn way out of here and fast. Sakura has started crying again, she's lumped over my shoulder like a bag, and she's crying. I should stop and comfort her, but I can't.

I don't know what to say, so I say nothing and I keep on running.

We leave behind New York, burning, and only when I finally stop do I realize just how far I've gone. New York is but a speck in the distance, and the beast…it rattles for blood.

I overused it: I know I should have held the chains of blood tightly around me. I might have even won a confrontation against that sort of army back there, but would it have been worth it? Sakura and Sasuke would have died.

I can't let them die.

They're _mine_.

Mine to protect, mine to keep safe, mine to nourish and talk to. Nobody else can have them. They're mine. Finally I can speak with Sakura. The Teme never was good at talking after all.

"I know you're shocked." I mutter, and the two look at me with dead eyes. They saw too many explosions to even think anything was normal, probably the only reason they haven't slumped over to sleep is because I'm here, and the adrenaline has yet to abate. "But there's a very good explanation for what's going on."

They don't reply. They just look at me, puzzled maybe, if the half-millimeter of twitching in Sakura's lip is of any indication.

"The reason is…I'm a Vampire."

The Masquerade is broken. No apocalypse comes, no looming horde of Sabbat cultists…no anarchs. After all I just said three words, four if we consider 'I' and 'Am' separate. That's the cue I suppose, because the next moment they both slump down on the ground, fainted from the exhaustion.

Good to know.

It is said that, when an Antediluvian wakes and walks, chaos and natural hazards sprout. The massive explosion of fire in New York will be considered, in the years to come, as yet another proof of this theory. Never mind it was done with white phosphorous, artillery shells, mercenary units, assault helicopter and Vampires.

Still, this didn't matter.

Naruto Uzumaki had his teammates back; stolen from a burning down New York, brought away from danger and into the safety of his arms.

It rattled against the cage known as Humanity, and as yet another bar of its prison disappeared, madness encroached once more on the mind of the Antediluvian known as the Rokudaime Hokage of old. As blood left its surrounding, the beast purred in happiness nevertheless. It was split, it was divided.

Blood was given and its powers would tie others to itself. One day, one day it would be free.

It cannot die what can forever lie, and with strange eons, even death may die.

The beast slept. For that night, it would sleep and leave the man to his fantasies. The blood and his emotions would do the rest. Its powers were what had brought forth Sasuke and Sakura, in the subconscious of the blond the two were what he needed to be happy…for the beast, it was what he needed to be destroyed and set her free.

Enslaved by blood, broken by the curse, they will follow him. It will rattle against the cage yet again, and will keep on doing so.

The Beast known as Hunger.

The Beast known as Thirst.

The Beast known as Hatred.

The Beast known as _Humanity_.

"Survival is all that we are. Survival is the height of Humanity. Anything else pales in comparison to it. Do you understand me, Sasuke, Sakura?"

"Hai, Naruto-kun/Dobe."

"Good…let's go now...we have a ship to catch: We'll be going to meet an old friend of mine, in Genoa."

And with those words, the three were gone. Kindred never forget, after all.

_**End.**_

**This was an attempted one-shot that became a three-shot I suppose.**

**There is a sentence taken straight out of Lovecraft. That said, hope you enjoyed the short story.**


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